


Lazy Night

by 20BlueBoy19



Series: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? [9]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Art talks, Banter, Developing Relationship, Dinner, Fluff, Gift Giving, How Do I Tag, I can't tag but trust me its good, M/M, Nature, Not as much flirting as usual, Some pretty okay dialogue this time, Stars, Thinking, appreciating nature, dinner together, fluff?, mentions of Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20BlueBoy19/pseuds/20BlueBoy19
Summary: A sequel to Lazy Day, but stands alone. Nick and Saylor go out for a bite to eat and appreciate the sky. Nick has a present for Saylor back at the Agency.





	Lazy Night

Cigarette smoke wafted through the air in interesting shapes, disappearing before it reached the ceiling. Saylor was laying down on the couch at the Agency, head in Nick's lap, and holding his pip-boy. He really sucked at all the games on it. Mostly he spent his past life with real fights, not simulated ones.

Nick was smoking leisurely and only half-watching Saylor's hand darting around the screen. His mind was vibrating with cases he had studied for weeks, and every so often an idea would pop into his mechanical head and he'd jot it down. Even on a lazy day he couldn't be entirely unproductive.

"Hey, kid. You gotten anything to eat today?"

"Uh," Saylor was still concentrating on the game. "That'd be a no." A beep from the pip-boy alerted him of his in-game death. "Dammit!"

Nick took a drag and let it escape through his mouth. "You gotta eat something."

"Nah. Not really hungry. Thanks, though." Saylor kicked his foot in frustration. The game was lagging.

"Hey, hey, c'mon. With how much you badger me 'bout not taking care of myself, you don't really think I'll let you go a whole twenty-four hours without putting a single thing in your stomach. I'm surprised you're not complaining."

"I don't complain."

"Yeah, you do."

"Ok, yeah, but not that much."

He died again. "FUCK!" He lifted his top half off of Nick's lap. "Ok, let's go. I couldn't stand another second around this damn thing. I need lessons from Hancock. His high scores are higher than he usually is."

Nick chuckled and rose from the couch, grabbing his coat and Saylor's jacket. "It's getting chilly out at nights," he explained.

"Ah." Saylor donned the jacket. "Where're we goin?"

"Wherever you want to eat."

Saylor paused for a moment. "Power Noodles?"

"Sure."

During the walk to the stand, Nick asked," So what exactly do these things taste like? Are they ramen but more... Radiation-y?"

"I mean... sort of? It's like, imagine you have ramen, but it tastes a little more like dirt and stings. Not that badly, though."

Nick laughed. "It stings? Why do you people eat that stuff?"

"It's a Diamond City special. You ever seen noodles anywhere else in the Commonwealth?"

"Hm. Suppose you're right. A weird delicacy."

Saylor sat down on the stool. "Certainly is."

 

Watching Saylor tidily eat his noodles, Nick thought about the man sitting next to him. He'd known the guy for... what was it? A year now? Around that long. In that time, Nick found that he had learned a lot about Saylor, whether it was from conversation, or just the fact that they spent almost every day together. The man did everything fast; that was obvious to anyone. He made decisions quickly and stuck to 'em without shame. He was liable to change his mind concerning his opinion of people, but not his choices. It didn't seem like it, but he really did think a lot about everything, examining it from every angle. Seemed like that way of thinking was lodged deep into his brain-- like a thought that's always there, even if you don't concentrate on it. Always whispering, always watching. No matter what he was doing, Saylor could get into the soul of anything and dissect it within a second.

Nick was pulled from his rumination by the sound of thin metal clinking onto a tabletop. His dim eyes brightened to their normal hue.

"I can pay for that, doll. I'm the one that forced ya here."

"Nah, it's fine. Don't worry about it, my purse isn't that light."

Saylor put his bowl and fork in the designated sink, and Takahashi buzzed over to clean. Nick got off his chair. "Sorry to be such boring company. Didn't even realize I was silent the whole time. Mind was wanderin', you know."

Saylor nodded. "I get it."

They padded along together under aluminum roofs that glinted pink and yellow with the gentle sunset. Saylor stopped for moment and looked upwards into the sky. Nick followed his gaze.

Some stars peeked through the cotton candy clouds and softly turning sky. The moon was bright. It almost felt normal, but for the lack of leaves whistling across the ground and fresh smell of sunset air. The air smelled like metal and sweat, poisoned by all the dirty things in the world. But the stars, oh, even the apocalypse couldn't reach them. Nick wanted to cite a line of poetry, but none that came to mind described the moment as perfectly as it existed. He let it be, without disturbing the air with his voice.

He looked at Saylor after a few moments. He was transfixed by the leisurely darkening sky, eyes roaming the clouds and stars.

"I used to draw."

Saylor broke the silence so abruptly that it took Nick a second to respond. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Well, not so much drawing as painting. I liked doing landscapes and skies. It's strange... After years of painting, you start to see the shapes and colors that make up every single thing. The oranges, pinks, and blues that go into a single cloud. The hidden color within it." He brought his hand to the air and measured something in the sky, closing one eye to focus. "There are triangles between the stars, and ovals in the rays that shine from them."

Nick thought for a moment. He tried to see the shapes and colors, but could only recognize them as they were. "That sounds beautiful."

Saylor sighed and lowered his hand. "Yeah, I guess. But it gets a little overwhelming after a while. Any time I see something pretty I have to tear it apart and examine it. I can't just appreciate it."

"That's fine. You're appreciating it in your own way."

Saylor cast him a slight, lopsided smile that showed half of his teeth.

"That's one way to put it."

"Hey, I think I've got something at the Agency for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, let's go."

 

Nick forced open the groaning drawer in his desk. "What kind of painting did you do?"

Saylor was caught off guard. "Uh... Watercolor and acrylics."

From the drawer Nick pulled a white plastic watercolor box, a small bin of acrylic paints, some well-used paint bruises held together by a plastic band, and a pad of art paper with half the pages torn out. He presented them to Saylor, who took them wide outstretched arms.

"Why do you have these? Do you have a secret hobby I'm not aware of?"

Nick smiled. "No, it's for kids, usually, who have to stay at the Agency for one reason or another. Kidnapped parents, stalkers, the like. Gives 'em something to do other than listening to this old synth ramble."

"Nick, you don't have to give these to me."

"Why not? Still got plenty left if you need any more."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Completely."

"Well, alright. Thanks." Saylor grinned. It was contagious.

"No problem. Can I commission?"

Saylor considered it, rolling the brushes around in his palm. "Sure. But you still gotta pay."

"Do I get any discounts?"

Again Saylor acted as if he were mulling it over. "Ma-aybe... I don't see how you'd be qualified, though."

"Oh! Rude.."

They both chuckled. Saylor couldn't stop smiling. "Mind if I do a little work to get back in the rhythm?"

"Go ahead."

Saylor sat in front of the couch in the main room, placing the supplies all around the floor. Nick sat in his chair and pulled out a file. "Just make sure you get some sleep, yeah?"

"Sure thing."

More than a few minutes passed in silence. Saylor's brush danced across the paper in test strokes.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell a story, or go over one of your old cases? I like the noise. It helps me concentrate."

"You have a preference?"

Saylor popped his lips while he thought. "One I haven't heard before."

"Okay..." Nick tossed some old papers into the trash bin and leaned back in his chair. "I ever tell you about the Hounds of Baskerville?"

Saylor barked a laugh. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?"

Nick smirked. "Calm down, Watson."

Saylor 'psssh'd. "Watson? You know for a fact that I'd be Irene."

They both shared a hard laugh over that one. Nick tried not to think about what Saylor might have meant.  
"Okay, okay, okay," he said, coming down from his laughing high. "How about the case I solved for a Brotherhood Knight?"

Saylor gave a dirty face. "You helped one of those bastards?"

Nick shrugged. "makes for an interesting story."

"Fine."

The night passed jovially within the Agency, and outside the sky eventually darkened.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this was inspired by a conversation I had with my brother. If you can't tell, I usually write nature poetry and not stories with actual plots.
> 
> Comment! Feedback, critiques, your favorite poem, anything!


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